Poetic Jones
by Maple Syrup-tard
Summary: Tasked with writing a poem as class work, Alfred reads out his poem to his class. Sceptical, the class shrugs the poem off as a joke because really, Alfred writing a good poem? Ha! But they're surprised to find that the poem isn't what it seems and turns out, his poem isn't even a poem. Fluffy second grade Alfred standing up for Matthew inside. ((Second grade human AU)) One-shot.


Heya~ Sorry I've been gone so long... I blame school...

Aaaanyway, I just wanted to publish this thing which has been running around my mind for a bit.  
Its just a little something because I'm doing poetic stuff in English class (Good stuff like Dante's Inferno~ :3) and I just adore the idea of America writing a poem, that really isn't a poem, and ends up reading it to his second grade class and it escalating into something completely different.

Well, enjoy and don't be afraid to tell me stuff~ (I actually need to improve my writing skills or I might die in English this year so really, don't be afraid ^^;)

**Dislclaimer: I don't own Hetalia  
**((Oh, I should also warn readers that there's an excessive use of caps around the end~))

* * *

_Matthew Williams._

_The best Forward on our local Hockey Team. _

_That shy little guy who used to sit beside me at the Blue table. Our table._

_The second smartest kid in our class besides Artie._

_My best friend._

_A fellow class mate to all of us. _

_Matthew Williams. _

_We all know him as that guy who is shorter and kinder than Ivan at the Green table. But, even though he's really nice, he has the meanest right-hook... And I know both me and Ivan can testify to that because of last weeks game... Poor kid on the other team..._

_We also know him as the most generous guy out there unlike Yao who's also at the Green table... You see, unlike Yao, he didn't harass me for that fifty cents I owe him which I'm totally going to pay back. Like, calm down dude. Fifty cents is hard to come by for second graders. Plus I owe Mattie money too and he doesn't bother me like you. Sheesh._

_He also made me the best toast out there the other day. Most second graders can't even reach the toaster yet but Mattie uses a stool and can still make the worlds best toast! And if he does accidentally burn it, it doesn't turn to dust like the toast Artie made me yesterday who now takes Matthews spot beside me... I'll admit, it's a big change and I'm still trying to adjust to the fact that Mattie isn't there. _

_Plus, did you know he has these eyes that sparkle beautifully like that metallic purple pencil crayon that everyone borrows from Francis (who now also sits at my table) to use during colouring time and has silky soft hair like him too... Which is weird but I guess it makes sense because they are cousins after all. _

_I just can't tell you enough about Matthew. Matthew Williams is so many things!_

_Matthew, Mattie, Matt._

_He was so great to sit next too... __Sharing his Dunkaroos and never making me feel stupid like Artie. __He even gave me those Dunkaroos if he wasn't hungry..._

_I miss him so much when he's sick from school and I miss him even more now that he's gone. I hope he's happy where he is._

_ Mr. Edelstein substitute teacher dude said that he's in a better place now and that I shouldn't worry but I KNOW THAT-_

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!"

At the front of the room with his arms midair and the innocent look of confusion across his features, Alfred was a tad upset about being interrupted during the climax of poem. On the other hand, all the shoulders in his small class of fifteen relaxed the moment their substitute, Mr. Edelstein, stopped their classmate from continuing. With giggles and words being exchanged, everyone was glad to be living this time around. No one wanted a repeat of Alfred's poem climax last week which sent their real teacher, Mr. Awesome, to the hospital... Unconscious. (It was a tragic event involving an overly excited Alfred, paper, glitter glue, scissors, a baking soda volcano, Arthur's toast and his plush toy whale, Whaley.)

"I'm sorry to interrupt Mr. Alfred but, this is the poem unit... Right? Aren't there supposed to be rhymes in poems? I asked everyone to write a poem in thirty minutes and you produce this? Not to mention your poem sounds like you're at Matthew Williams viewing, recalling your good times together while he's resting in peace!"

A unanimous murmur of, '_Not to mention you insulted almost a third of the class_.' brushed past the lips of many.

"So what! It's just a poem! Mr. Awesome said that as long as what we write about doesn't break any laws, we're free to express what we want to express! And I wanna express to our class how awesome Mattie is!" The class let out a slight chuckle at his outburst which caused Alfred to puff out his chest and hold his ground. No way was he going to let a dumb substitute teacher upstage him AND embarrass him. He glared the man down as best as he could.

"Uh, sir!" A little hand shot into the air belonging to the primp and proper British boy Arthur. "Not all poems need to have rhymes. Plus, Alfred was probably dropped on his head at birth so ignore him!"

That set the class off.

Mr. Edelstein's yells to calm the class fell on deaf ears as kids fell out of their chairs and laughed until they were a shade of red. Alfred was also a form of red but for an entirely different reason. It wasn't until the hefty door that connected the hallway to their classroom opened and that the timid boy of Alfred's poem returned silencing the class.

"U-uh... Did I come at the wrong time? Because I could go back and pretend to take down the attendance again if you want..." The feeling of everyone's eyes on him was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. So to the best of his abilities, he whipped the door open in order to flee the mirthful glares he received...

Only to be intercepted by his best friend and dragged to the front of the room with ecstatic chirps of 'Mattie!~' and his desperate need to get out.

Placing his friend on the teacher stool that stood beside Alfred, he told Matthew with a wag of a finger and a stern look to 'stay'. '_I'm going to continue my poem now!~_' was the only warning given before the wheat-blond belted the last part of his poem to the class.

"Ah! Mr. Alfred! There's no need to continu-"

"-I KNOW THAT I SHOULD BE WORRIED BECAUSE SOME OF YOU MIGHT PICK ON HIM AT THE GREEN TABLE! JUST BECAUSE HE'S SMALLER AND NOT ON THE ICE DOSEN'T GIVE YOU A REASON TO TAKE HIS DUNKAROOS- **HEY! ****I'M TALKING TO YOU IVAN! I KNOW YOU LOVE THEM DUNKAROOS! **AND I'M NOT GIVING THIS POEM OUT AS FUEL FOR YOU GUYS TO PICK ON MATTIE FURTHER BUT; I JUST WANT Y'ALL TO KNOW, I WILL GET YOU BACK FOR HIM!

"MATTIE IS THE MOST SWEETEST, MOST ORIGNIAL GUY I KNOW OUT THERE BESIDES MYSELF AND IT JUST HURTS MY HEART TO SEE PEOPLE PICKING ON KIND PEOPLE. JUST BECAUSE MATTIE OWES YOU A COOKIE WITH INTEREST BECAUSE YOU GAVE HIM HALF A COOKIE YESTERDAY YAO, OR YOU THINK MATTIE'S LUNCH ISN'T YUMMY BECAUSE YOU'RE ARTHUR AND CAN'T ACCEPT THE FACT THAT YOU CAN'T MAKE A SANDWICH LIKE MATTIE DOESN'T GIVE YOU A REASON! IT'S... JUST... So... unfair..."

Fat droplets of tears streamed down his face as he continued on with a much weaker tone.

"I can't believe you guys call him your friend. I can understand why Francis would pick on Mattie because they're cousins, I mean it makes sense! ... Artie and I are cousins and I pick on him... It makes sense... But... Why? I thought we were The Allies... What happened to the awesome alliance we formed when we sat together? What made you change your minds from when we used to sit five at a table instead of three...? Is it the colour green that's making you pick on him? The five of us were the best table out there! Remember? We built the best leprechaun trap on St. Patrick's day! I-I thought we were supposed to be there for each other... Wasn't that why we started the club...?"

The boy was taking in deep breaths now to calm his nerves.

"So, uh... Well, what my poem that apparently now isn't a poem is supposed to mean is, please don't pick on Mattie anymore because he doesn't sit next to me. I know that because he doesn't sit next to me anymore makes him vulnerable since he doesn't have me as a hero to make him actually use his mean right hook. He's my best friend so, please don't. I just want everyone to be happy and okay... And umm... Mr. Edelstein wanted a rhyme so uh..."

With a flourish of his hand, his papers rained down him as Alfred recited his impromptu poem.

"When Mattie and me grow up, he'll be the best hockey player and tough. He'll be rich and popular, maybe even have a helicopter. But right now he needs to grow, so that he can own. And I'll be by his side, through the small and the wide. Because that's what best friends do, unlike these certain poo's. Now my poem is known, hurry up bell and ring so we can all go home... Plus p.s, if you get in the way, you won't see the next day... The end."

It was if the class was enchanted and a flimsy cardboard box trapped the class. Though, no one to moved in fear of accidentally breaking the walls that they needed to escape. The only one who didn't seem affected by this was Alfred who was now sniffling and rubbing his sleeve furiously against his face. It wasn't until the soft 'pap' of Matthews shoes meeting the carpet and the quick 'taps' towards Alfred that the spell weakened. How could it fight that show of raw emotions of thankfulness through that hug? Not only that but, every person left at the Blue and Green table stood up and joined the emotional hug ripping the walls off the cardboard box, completely freeing the class from their prison with their lingering whispers of 'I'm so sorry, please forgive me'. Finally, after an eternity of watching the touching display, the bell rang snapping the spell-bound class out of their daze, sending them trudging towards their cubbies in tears. It was something they couldn't take their eyes off but, knew that if they upset the balance, it would blow up in their faces.

After a minute or two, The Allies separated with huge smiles plastered across their features. And as Alfred belted, "LAST ONE TO THE BUS IS A ROTTEN EGG!", their smiles widened further as they dashed for their things with their giggles trailing after them. The resounding sound of the door slamming signaled Mr. Edelstein of the emptiness of the room.

Now with just his thoughts to accompany him, Mr. Edelstein deeply sighed to himself with his cheeks cupped into his hands. He thought second graders would be easy to handle considering he was a high school teacher but, after today he firmly decided. He was never going to fill-in for Gilberts class again... They were all crazy like him.

* * *

Blah. Sucky ending will be sucky... I hoped you enjoyed it though~


End file.
